


Practical Dad

by Cuppatea13



Series: The Stories of Arlie [11]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Adorable, Family Fluff, Gen, Interlude, daddy!Phil, practical family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-16
Updated: 2015-02-16
Packaged: 2018-03-13 08:10:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3374135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cuppatea13/pseuds/Cuppatea13
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Phil and Arlie have a late-night discussion one night while waiting for the Agents to return home. (Main story is: Reliant, this is an interlude.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Practical Dad

**Author's Note:**

> So we've got a teeny tiny piece of family fluff here. Shamelessly, because we all know what's coming and I don't want to let go of Phil yet! He's just so wonderful and fatherly and I don't want Arlie to cry any more!
> 
> But, it is necessary to the plot (stupid plot), and I refuse to tell you whether or not I'll have him come back. After all, death gives us size. But I adore Phil.

**June 3rd, 2011 (Phil)**

"So no more Janine, the cellist from Oregon?" Arlie asks me after I explained I had no dates for this month to schedule dinner around.

"No- she moved back to Portland. She made the case that I was busy and she wanted more time, but she didn't think it was fair to call me away from my work and other duties, so she didn't see it working out."

Arlie just sits next to me on the couch as we watch our third movie for the evening. Clint and Tasha are on a mission and we're waiting for them to get home, refusing to fall asleep (though I had tried to send Arlie to bed several times over the past three hours) until they were back with us, "I'm sorry," she says, looking glum as her shoulder leans up against mine. Owl is curled up on the other end of the sofa and the cool evening that had descended on us after the rain storm moved through the city is off-set by their body heat.

I give her a small smile, "Well, she was right. I don't have much time to give her, I guess."

"Well, be fair- take a look at your resume."

I look at her, my eyebrows coming together, wondering what my work experience has to do with this.

"I mean," she begins to explain, "You're an Agent, and you're really just a step or two below Fury himself. That's a lot of work. Not to mention how in your free time you swoop in and save people," she adds with a grin. "And you're practically a single father."

"I was with you until that last bit- you mean with you and Clint? You two don't need much parenting anymore. I kind of missed those stages."

She rolls her eyes and rests her head on my shoulder, "You're almost as big an idiot as bird brain," she teases, "Phil, you may have gotten here a bit late in the game, but don't think that that makes you any less our dad. You lecture us, you guide us, you've got the fatherly advice thing down, you glare at any dates we may get, are over protective, you even pace when we don't get home on time, and you teach us everything you know. For all practical purposes, you're our father." I look down at this girl who is fighting sleep as she leans on my shoulder, wrapped up in one of the blankets her brother had brought her back from Peru as her eyes lose focus on the TV. She suddenly giggles a little, "You're our practical dad." She yawns widely without covering her mouth at the end of that statement, but it's perfect.

"Well, that makes you my practical daughter," I say, hoping that the other two members of our family will be home soon so the stubborn girl will go to sleep.

She wakes up enough to  _beam_  at me.

Before either of us says anything more or the Goonies even get to finding the treasure map, Clint and Tasha half-stumble through the door. The two of us are up like a shot (and Owl is barking for a few seconds then virtually tackling Tasha to the ground in his enthusiasm) and soon we're all greeting each other in a mess of talking and nothing can be heard properly and I'm pretty sure Arlie and Clint are already bickering.

My practical daughter, with my practical son and the girl he loves who has become a practical part of our practical family.

Within five minutes they've all fallen asleep and I'm turning off the TV, folding the blankets, and making sure the food has all been put away where Owl won't get to it. Then I head off to sleep myself- my kids are home and all is right with the world. Sure, Clint might have a sprained wrist (he was complaining about how it would affect his shooting his bow) and Tasha might have broken a toe (she was irritably ranting about how a toe should not hurt that much), but they're all under the same roof and safe now. I can sleep tonight.


End file.
